Who gets to be Daddy?
by Tensleep
Summary: Just a musing on Darry when he finally has a family of his own.


Ok, out of the…frustration of not being able to find anything around here, I am writing something along the same lines. Hope you all enjoy. Special thanks to Keira for giving this a read through.

Disclaimer: I own everything S.E. Hinton doesn't.

Dedication: To Liz who has kids

This will probably never go anywhere, because it isn't supposed to.

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Darry's POV 

Through out my life, I've known things get complicated and that to keep yourself above water, you need to give your all to whatever you do. I guess that's why I was spending my day off on the house.

Layne and I had bought it years ago and I had found little time to do anything on it, but when the boss says to take a day off, that's usually how I spend it. This had only become a trend for me in the last few years when we finally seemed to be finding the money to put work into the house with. I'd redone the rails, the counter tops and the cabinets in the last year, but there was more I wanted to do. The basement, for example, was never fully developed when we bought the house. Parts of it didn't even have walls, just insulation covered with plastic to make sure that the boys don't go playing in it. I'd heard stories of kids thinking it was cotton candy or something and ending up in the emergency room with worried mothers and shameful fathers. There was no telling what can happen when you don't take care of your house or keep an eye on your kids.

My kids were one of the greatest joys in my life and I couldn't picture myself without them. They helped to remind me there was a world beyond work and bills. I spent as much time with them as I could and I enjoyed every moment.

It was funny to be home while they were at school and day care. The house seemed empty without their feet running across the floor and their happy voices in the air. The dog even seemed to notice it, but he dealt with it every day. I supposed if I didn't keep busy, the silence and the stares I was getting from the mutt were going to drive me crazy.

Today's project was to just do the little stuff; clean out the gutters, fix the leaky faucet, put the drain from the gutters back up, put new weather stripping on the door and generally just make the house easier to work with. I knew it wasn't much, but it would keep me busy.

What was it that kept me constantly busy? It had been years since Ponyboy and Soda had both moved out and gone on to their own lives, but still I kept working. I guess I did it for my own family, after I had trained myself to do so for them when they were around. I felt like there was always something I could be doing when I had a moment of time to myself. It had trained me to manage my time, however. I hadn't done a good job of it today. By the time I had done everything on my list, it wasn't even noon. I took a good look around the house and wondered how else I was going to keep myself busy.

"You sure worked fast," Layne commented with a basket of laundry in her arms

"Too fast," I said taking the basket from her "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine, Darry." She smiled "I've been pregnant before."

I smiled, too, and sat the basket of clean clothes on the kitchen table for her. She was just like me, always wanting to be busy with something and always wanting to do her share, even when she was nearly nine months along. She sighed and sat down at the kitchen table.

"Thank you," she said leaning back into her chair

"Maybe I should do the laundry until the baby comes," I suggested

"And let the stairs win?" There was a challenge in her voice

"They aren't going anywhere and they'll still be there in a couple months," I reminded

"I know, but how else am I going to keep busy until I have to go and pick up the boys?" she asked

"I'll buy you a couple new books," I suggested and she rolled her eyes at me, smiling

I suppose she found my worry funny. I guess I did worry too much for her, but I had my reasons. It had been nearly five years since we had a baby in the house. Not only was I excited, but I was anxious, too. So many things could happen to her and the baby and the more things I could protect them from, the happier I would be. I'd been a wreck of nerves the day DJ started school and now Cheyenne was in kindergarten and Sam went to the day care centre for a few hours every day. I had grown into the idea of them not being here where I knew they were safe, but it would be the same thing all over again with another baby.

"Let me guess, you've finished everything on your list." Layne took my hand

"Yeah," I sighed

"Well, I found at least one thing for you to do," she informed me, going to the sink for a glass of water

"What would that be?" I asked

"The Cat has been climbing the plastic in the laundry room so he can sit on the window sill and watch Elvis run around the back yard with the kids."

Elvis wagged his tail at the mention of his name and I sighed. That damn cat was causing more problems than he was worth. If he wasn't knocking dishes off the counter he was pulling up the carpet or chewing on my shoelaces. Layne seemed to find it amusing, but tried not to smile.

"So, if you would go and staple it back up, I would be very happy."

"Yeah, I think I can do that," I agreed, kissing her on the forehead

"Just don't trip over the cat. He likes to sit on the stairs," she reminded

"I won't," I said going to the hall closet for my tool belt

I unhooked the elastic we had on the hall closet doors, to keep the youngest out, and soon the baby when he or she got to the curious age, and looked for my belt. It wasn't there and I frowned.

"Layne?" I yelled, "Where'd you put my tool belt?"

"I hung it up in the closet," she called back from where she was folding laundry

"Well, it's not here," I called back

"Maybe you put it in your tool box," she suggested

"I don't remember doing that," I told her, "I'll go look there, though."

There was a storage room in the basement that DJ had long ago christened 'Dad's work room' and that's where I kept all my tools and projects. It kept the house cleaner that way and the boys were less likely to get into things when they were out of sight and out of mind. I took my time on the stairs and was happy to find them cat free. I went and looked at the wall by the window Layne had mentioned. She wasn't lying when she said he had pulled most of it down. I sighed and went to the workroom to see if I had stashed my belt in there.

When I flipped on the light I nearly lost it. There were tools everywhere. Carefully stored chisels and screwdrivers were strewn across the floor with screws and bolts and even some dry wall plugs. I was happy to report that the construction stapler was still on the wall and out of harm's way, along with the hammers and my levels. The jars I had full of Nails and tacks were still on the counter, but in the middle of the mess was my tool belt.

I groaned and counted to ten. _'Hell hath no fury like a dad with messed up tools.'_ I had never really understood what that meant until now. Sure, I could always clean them up, but what if they had gotten a hold of the hammers and hurt themselves or drank some of the wood stain? That settled it. I was just going to have to give the boys a stern lecture on respecting other people's things. If that didn't work, the next step was to put a lock on the door.

"What happened here?" Layne asked

"The boys have been in my tools," I grumbled

Layne smiled and rubbed my arm in an understanding way. I knew they had gotten into her things many more times than they had gotten into mine.

"When I bring Cheyenne and Sam home, you should hide and listen to them play," she suggested

"Why?" I looked at her, puzzled by the request

"They have an interesting game they don't think I know about."

"Oh? What would that be?" I asked throwing an arm around her

"Well, it always starts with an argument between them. When they finally get it sorted out, they pretend to build things," she explained

"Just what is this argument?" I asked, confused and curious

"Who gets to be Daddy."

I blinked at looked down at her, to see if she was joking with me. She smiled and grabbed my hand.

"They really do that?" I asked

"You remember when DJ was little and he pretended he was Batman? Well, they pretend they're you. You're their superhero," she explained

I felt the smile playing at my lips and Layne's eyes were laughing at me. I had smiled at several things my boys had done over the years, usually when I was mad enough to kill them, but I suppose being imitated by them was one of the more surprising things.

"Who's the loser get to be?" I asked, wondering whom else they'd pick

"There are no losers," she reminded me "Whoever was you the day before gets to be Sodapop the next day."

"Sodapop?" I asked following her up the stairs

"Yes, Sodapop," she answered, taking it easy with my hand on her back

"So he's like the Sparrow to my Batman?" I asked

"Robin, dear," she corrected "But they don't fight over who gets to be Soda."

I smiled at her and kissed her on the forehead. I guess hell may have no fury, but life could turn that around and make you smile. I knew it would be plastered all over my face for the rest of the day, but I didn't care. I was a lucky guy and I knew it. Life didn't get any better than this.

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Well, Darry can find his big stapler, but mine is missing. That makes me sad, but hey. I'll find it! Hope you all enjoyed!

Any comments at all are welcome and flames are accepted.

See ya in the funny papers! Tens


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